


Amnesiacs

by BloodiedRose



Series: Amnesiacs [1]
Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms
Genre: Donna Noble Fix-It, Donna Noble Remembers, Fix-It, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:14:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22157638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodiedRose/pseuds/BloodiedRose
Summary: Donna Noble goes to her Grandfather's grave after the funeral and finds a Scottish man who gives her a little red box.The Doctor Donna, in her own TARDIS, cleaning up Time Lord messes throughout time and space. (Specifically two small but significant messes).
Series: Amnesiacs [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1661272
Comments: 16
Kudos: 59





	Amnesiacs

**Author's Note:**

> Hey brain, are you ready to finish all those wips burning a hole in my harddrive? No? You want to crank out a sappy one shot instead? Okay!
> 
> Warnings: Wilfred's funeral is kind of the premise of this fic, but it isn't discussed in detail. There is some description of wounds but not enough that I would call it gore. Jamie and the Doctor are referenced to having been in a relationship. And there are a lot of run-on sentences.
> 
> Also quick characterisation note: By The War Games Zoe seemed to have a near regular emotional range, so I've had her react accordingly. On the opposite end, Doctor Donna is a bit quieter and reserved (which she tends to be with characters outside of the Doctor). Also Donna never got married because the plot is easier that way.

It’s this permanent, insistent, consistent, niggling, nagging, irritating feeling sitting at the back of her head that she’d left the iron on. Just that pull towards something she has forgotten, not even something important but an ever present _something_. It’s on the tip of her tongue, within her grasp, nowhere at all. 

Of course it is very clear that she _has_ forgotten something. Some very big things. Like her damn _wedding_ , which apparently happened, but didn’t happen because she disappeared halfway down the aisle, and then her fiance ran off (and when she thinks of him she gets the urge to yell, and scream, and cry for days on end and she can’t remember why). She knows she isn’t the smartest tool in the shed, but she can see what is right in front of her, thank you very much. 

Donna Noble isn’t thick.

She knows her Mum and her Granddad are keeping something from her, which hurts because she thought she and her Granddad were in this together but now he’s hiding something from her. At first it reminds her of her eleventh birthday when he got so secretive only to present her with a hand built tree house (that was kept firmly on the ground in her backyard because her mother refused to have it cast shade over her petunias). But there are no presents this time.

She knows that she thinks too fast now, can’t slow down, new connections made between ideas that she’d never thought of at all and it gives her a headache but also feels like she’s sledding down a steep hill and she wants to whoop and holler. She is still fast with numbers but now with words and science and she looks at the stars and can’t name them but knows them like they’re old friends.

Donna _knows_ so much.

But she has bad dreams, worse than anything she could think. Dreams of monsters and cages and wasps (that is terrifying but the next day she grabs for the salt and can’t stop laughing for hours on end). Women turning into stone and flesh eating shadows and _molto bene_ and laughter that makes her feel so terribly alone. 

_Where have you gone? What have I gone? We weren’t meant to be apart._

She wakes up in the middle of the night and cries until dawn, and sings songs that don’t sound like anything she has heard before, and feels so tired but so alive. But if she stays still for too long she has to run until her legs give out. She rides buses to places she’s never heard of and picks a random street to explore. She shouldn’t be here. She’s left the iron on. 

Her Granddad comes home Christmas day and instead of telling jokes over dinner he locks himself in his room and she can hear him crying through the door. He hasn’t cried so much since Grandma died. She thinks the hole in her chest is because of how she can’t stand to hear her Granddad in pain but it’s more than that. She dreams of pain and light and every part of her is on fire and she wakes up and the strum in her head is muffled, like it’s above ground and she’s underwater.

Her Granddad dies at the ripe old age of 103, and when he does she walks up onto the roof of the hospital and just breathes the air. They’re going to bury him next to Grandma but she can’t help but think they should be scattering his ashes through the sky. She promised to show him the universe. She can’t remember when. 

The funeral isn’t somber, because no one has ever known Wilfred Mott to be somber. Instead they chat, they eat, they laugh far too loudly, and then drink to his good name. And then, on a whim, she goes back to the graveside again that night, and he already has a visitor. A man, late fifties, with salt and pepper hair that is almost entirely salt. 

“How’d you know my Granddad?” Donna asks, and the man nearly jumps out of his skin. He’s been crying, not a lot but enough, and Donna wants to slip her hand into his and give it a good squeeze. 

“He meant a lot to me when I was younger,” the man says in a thick Glaswegian accent. “Was like a father to me.”

“Then why’d you never come round?” Donna asks, and it sounds accusatory, and it isn’t meant to be- she was just curious but she feels just a little bit mad at a stranger she has no reason to be mad with. 

“I travel,” the man says, as if that explains everything. “It’s hard to keep track. But I always made sure to send him something from every place I went.”

Donna knows, now. She never knew what was in them, just that every so often a package would appear on the doorstep with Granddad’s name on it and that afterwards he would spend all day in his room tinkering with something or other.

“The boxes? Those were from you?”

The man nods. Donna is less annoyed with him now. 

“You wanna come in for a cuppa?” She asks, not out of politeness but because she _really_ wants him to say yes. But he shakes his head, and she feels like disappointment has not just sat in her stomach but also bludgeoned her repeatedly.

“I have to go, but-” he reaches into his coat and she catches sight of a gorgeous red lining and wants to call him ‘fancy pants’ for no reason. He pulls out a box, just like the ones Granddad got, this one wrapped in shiny red paper with a neon green bow wrapped around it. “This is for you.”

“Me?” Donna asks, reaching out and letting him hand it to her. 

“I’ve been wanting to give it to you for a while, but I couldn’t figure out how. I’m still not… sure,” he says, as if it physically pains him to say he didn’t know everything. “But it’s good enough. You will figure out the rest.”’

He smiles at her then, a sweet smile that makes the eyebrows look like they belong to a teddy bear rather than an attack dog, and leaves her alone in the graveyard. In the distance she hears a loud groaning sound, and her heart leaps in her chest for no reason. 

She takes the bus home, unwrapping and rewrapping the neon green bow. She gets off two stops too late and then runs two more blocks up and all the way back. Her Mum is in bed, and the house has been cleaned, but they have so many leftovers in the fridge and freezer that they won’t need to cook for a month. She says goodnight to the photo of her Granddad sitting on the table, and she can swear he is winking at her through the egg yolk dripping down his face.

Donna sits on her bed, cross legged as if she were a child, and opens the box.

\---

She’s not angry.

The _tosser_.

\---

She understands why he did it. Because she is him and he is her and she knows his life, his thoughts, the way his brain works but damn him she gets to feel angry and betrayed- but she knows that he also feels angry and betrayed. She wants to hug him. She wants to kick him. 

Some things never change.

\---

A TARDIS.

\---

He gave her a sodding _TARDIS._

\---

Well, that’s not entirely true. It’s only a fragment of a TARDIS that needs to be loved and grown but she can do that, she was always, never, going to be better at that sort of stuff than he was. It sings the same as his TARDIS, but with one note changed, just like she was and he was and it is brilliant.

Bonkers, absolutely bonkers.

But brilliant.

\---

Donna waters her TARDIS every day with a piece of a star that the Doctor gave her Granddad, and moves it all the time just so it can get a sense of what the world feels like. She says goodnight to it every time she goes to sleep and lets it dance with her in her dreams. Dreams of Gallifrey, and Pompeii, and horrible things but also glorious things. 

And she remembers how awful the universe is but also how happy and she is so angry that he took that from her. She can understand, because her Spaceman was raised to believe that the rules of time were rigid and unshakable. Donna has no reason to believe that. Donna is half human. Donna can proudly look at the control the Time Lords taught as natural and gives them the finger.

She looks at her TARDIS, flourishing under an Earth sun and decides to call it Ziggy because she is going to put right what the Time Lords made wrong. Or at the very least save some people if she can.

\---

It isn’t too tricky. A game of poker here, a croaking toad there, and the world isn’t perfect but it is a little nicer than it had been. Just a little bit happier. It is exhilarating, and freeing, and already she is starting to see how the Doctor managed to get so lonely out in space.

The TARDIS is infinite, and as much as it tried to keep her company she could still hear the echo. Saving the universe one marble at a time means so much but the more she sees the more she wants someone to see it _with_. And the angrier she gets at senseless, meaningless, unnecessary, thoughtless loss. 

\---

Zoe Heriot is a tiny girl, smarter than the Doctor but also not and she could almost hear his voice in her head whenever she suggested that Zoe was in any way better than him. But it is half-hearted, because Zoe Heriot is this raw and gaping wound who had suffered the same fate as Donna, and that pain makes Donna feel that much closer to betrayed.

_How could you do to me what the Time Lords did to them?_

It isn’t Cybermen this time, but a lone robot rising against its masters. Donna doesn’t need to do anything, because this is what Zoe does for fun, and when Donna offers to take her on a trip the girl doesn’t even hesitate to say yes. 

Donna shows Zoe the universe. Donna shows Zoe herself. 

\---

They find Jamie in the moors of Culloden, mere hours after Donna intended to land but she still worries that it might have been too late. He’s difficult to find, at first- the whole of the Highlands are littered with the bodies of murdered Jacobite soldiers and one young piper isn’t the most prominent needle in the haystack. 

Donna does her best to help who she can but there isn’t much help to give, and there is a pounding in the back of her skull that sounds an awful lot like a ticking clock. She thinks that this is all her fault and that guilt is just as real for her as it would be for the Doctor.

It’s Zoe who finds him, lying in the mud in the dip of a hill. Donna combs through the Doctor’s memories and doesn’t find Jamie ever looking this bloodied, and he is so nearly cut in half that the Donna part of her worries that if she’ll move him he’ll just fall to pieces.

 _Don’t be stupid,_ one Doctor says to her. _Be careful of his spine!_ Says another.

Donna slowly goes over his abdomen and wishes more than anything that Martha was with her, because she would know what to do, and suddenly she’s thinking of Martha even though she can see inside of Jamie’s stomach.

 _Focus,_ the Doctor says, her Doctor, and she takes a deep breath and calms herself. She runs a Corlyxen Skin Glue over the wound just to make sure it holds together long enough to carry him back to the TARDIS. 

“Donna, his-” 

“I know,” Donna says. There are too many wounds to count and she doesn’t know how he managed to get this many outside of torture, and a part of her wonders, because the Doctor did have to involve a kid in a massive jail break. She takes off her coat and presses it to the gash in his leg. 

Donna and Zoe aren’t strong enough to carry him back all at once, so they hide in the trees, Zoe cooing over him in a way that Donna tries to ignore because Zoe likely wouldn’t be glad for Donna to notice. She and Jamie remind her a lot of her and the Doctor, and she thinks that maybe they would have been okay if only they hadn’t been split up. 

Donna feels lonely again.

They are soaked through by the time they get through the TARDIS doors, all three of them covered in sweat and mud and Jamie’s blood. Donna readies herself to carry Jamie the long route into the infirmary, but a gurney appears just as soon as she thinks of it. She strokes one of the TARDIS’ roots in thanks.

Standing over Jamie’s body, armed with alien technology and an alien brain, Donna is certain that she is going to kill him. Dismantling a Dalek bomb is easy but she’s just a temp who dropped out of uni and is trying to _perform surgery_. Jamie looks so young under the bright infirmary lights and she looks at his face and feels every bit of love that the Doctor did and her hands are trembling so badly she thinks she should just call it jazz hands and dance out of the room.

 _Please help him,_ the Doctor who first fell in love with Jamie pleads, and Donna wants to but she can’t stop shaking. 

_Donna_ , the Doctor says, the quiet Doctor, who never speaks but when he does it’s with a pleasant Northern accent. _You can do this._

It takes hours for her to heal Jamie’s wounds, even with the help of alien technology and the entire chorus of Doctors cooperating for once. Each wound leaves a fine scar, well healed but still visible, and she wonders if Jamie’s going to lose the use of his legs again. Zoe has to leave at one point, first to throw up and then to have a good cry, and then she comes back as if nothing had ever happened. 

At the end of it Donna and Zoe collapse to the floor, listening to the TARDIS helping Jamie’s breathing. Zoe buries her face into Donna’s shoulder and Donna just pets her head, before loudly declaring that she needs a drink. 

“Yes please,” Zoe says into Donna’s shoulder.

“How old even are you?” Donna asks, and Zoe just shrugs. That’s fair, Donna thinks. Time feels meaningless in the TARDIS, and even then Donna hasn’t aged since 2008. She knows that Jamie and Zoe were kids when they joined the TARDIS, but adults by the time they left, with no idea when the transition happened. 

Either way, she figures Zoe has earned a drink. 

“Will you give him his memories tonight?” Zoe asks, sipping on a cocktail (no Time Lord brain required, just a few too many nights covering shifts at her mate’s pub) through a swirling straw. 

“Not tonight,” Donna says. The Doctors in her head are still bickering about it, but her decision is both final and simple. Neither she nor Jamie can handle the psychological strain after the toll of the afternoon (and evening, and early morning). And Donna knows that if she makes even one misstep she will rip the boy’s mind apart.

It isn’t terrifying at all. 

Jamie wakes up, confused, disoriented, terrified, and some of the Doctors loudly proclaim _I told you so_. Donna tells them to shut up. She tries to shush him as best as she can but she’s still a stranger, and he’s still in a room that is technologically far beyond even his wildest dreams. And even if she thinks like him and remembers through him, Donna isn’t the Doctor. There is no instinctive connection for Jamie to draw on.

He recognises Zoe, though. Just a little. Just enough.

At no point, regardless of their explanations, does Jamie seem to understand what is going on, but he doesn’t question it either. Because Jamie has never questioned anything if the explanation is too far beyond his understanding. But Jamie trusts them, and seems to like them, and he lets them help him recover no matter how humiliating it is.

They decide, when Jamie is strong enough, to walk him into the console room. He slings one arm over each of them (at first resting his elbow on Zoe’s head, so she jabs him in the ribs). The walk is slow, and Jamie may never regain full mobility of his legs but Donna remembers him lying on a couch, his legs completely unresponsive, and having to abandon him in the arms of strangers and surrounded by snowy wilderness. This is good enough.

It takes almost an hour to reach the console room, and Donna’s back aches from being hunched over for so long, but it is worth it when they get there. Donna’s console room is still built on what is most familiar to her, with the roots growing from floor to ceiling and the console itself still has the bulbous shape, but the colours are warmer, oranges and reds instead of green and black. And the couches are soft and plush, with wheels on the bottom so you can move around, instead of those awful things that always felt like they were going to rip and stab you in the backside with a spring.

She can remember spending time in the TARDIS with Jamie and Zoe, with those white walls and it feels wrong, somehow. And the TARDIS agrees, even if it still has the circle cubby holes in memory (a mahogany brown, now, to keep with the theme). Donna never felt as much pride and comfort as when she stepped into the TARDIS that she had lovingly grown to find it so comfortable, inviting, soft, cozy, comfy, _home_.

Zoe had a similar reaction, even if she had spent her life surrounded by those same white walls with the occasional sparkles. She had immediately dove head first into the couch and grabbed a cat shaped pillow that purred every time you held it. It had been adorable, and Donna had felt that same twinge that the Doctor had, the sense of family that he had developed towards her.

Donna hadn’t been sure what to expect from Jamie. The console room was perhaps more familiar to him than it would otherwise have been, with its rugs and couches, but it was still far beyond his comprehension. She had worried that it might frighten, intimidate, panic, alarm, unnerve him, or any other number of scary words even though he had taken one look at the original TARDIS and just accepted it as it was.

She does not expect him to cry. Not audibly, or substantially, just some silent tears falling down his cheeks. He reaches out to touch the console and instinctively pulls away, but puts his hand back when Donna makes no move to swipe at his hand. He rests his palms on the console and gently touches the buttons, the dials. It isn’t the TARDIS he knows but it also is and Donna doesn’t know what he’s thinking (her telepathy requires strong concentration and even more touch than the Doctor’s) but she can see the moment his thinking changes. His shoulders slump forward but his back straightens, and he turns to her.

“Can ye make me remember?” Jamie asks her. Zoe gasps in relief, in excitement. Donna simply nods.

\---

 _You have to be careful_ , Doctor Tall, Blond, and Curly tells her. _The Time Lords would have learned of our relationship instantly, and they would not have been kind to him after that_.

Zoe had been a little difficult, but relatively simple. It was just gathering up the threads of her mind and rethreading them through the needle. Fiddly, but easy to do with patience. But Zoe had already begun mending the threads on her own, and while she never would have solved the puzzle completely given enough time it could reasonably have led to her gaining the full picture even if she missed some details.

 _Think of it as something akin to a smashed plate_ , Scottish Doctor says. (She has to tell Jamie, when this is over, that five more regenerations and the Doctor would have been Scottish too). _First you must gather up the pieces, and then you can begin to mend_.

 _You can do this, Donna_ , her Doctor says. She rolls her neck and cracks some fingers for good measure.

Jamie is lying on a couch, watching her carefully. He doesn’t look scared, per se, but he certainly isn’t comfortable. Zoe rests her hand on his shoulder in a comforting gesture that is also ready to hold him down in a moment’s notice. 

_Touch his face_ , the Sweet Doctor says. _It’s easier that way_.

Donna wants to growl that she has done this before, but she doesn’t feel like she has and the commentary is helping. The Sweet Doctor has a calming voice, and she likes to listen to him tell her stories at night. She reaches out and cups Jamie’s face in both of her hands, her fingertips brushing his temples. 

_Good, now reach out to his mind._

She does, like she’s letting a stray dog sniff her hand. Even if Jamie doesn’t remember what the Time Lords did, his instinct may lash out at another intruder in his mind. For now, at least, the doors to Jamie’s mind part and he lets her in.

It’s not as orderly as the Doctor’s mind, or Zoe’s for that matter, but if Donna knew what her own mind looked like this is what she thinks it would be. It’s a small house, old by her standards but to Jamie the only thing he has known. Everything in there is defined by sound first, then sight, smell, touch, and the other senses. 

_He thinks in music_ , Jamie’s Doctor sighs happily. He has been here before, but it looks different now so she can’t use him to direct her. But everything is still familiar enough that she feels like she has returned somewhere. She can hear the music, everything a slightly different note. Together, it sounds like bagpipes.

It’s the walls that hold most of the damage. They are cracked and crumbling, like someone has taken a bulldozer to them. Donna reaches up to touch one of the cracks and the landscape twists, and distantly she can hear a cry.

 _Not yet!_ Her Doctor says. _He isn’t ready_.

 _The small things first,_ Sweet Doctor says. _Let him become familiar with you. Try and mend the table leg._

Donna reaches out to touch the leg, not splintered but still coming apart from the table it is supporting. When her hand makes contact she gets a flash of cold, fear churning in her gut because the Doctor is about to die, and she can’t let him, she can’t let him so she uses the yeti to save him and refuses to stop no matter how much he yells at her-

The table leg snaps back into place. The memory becomes part of the whole again, instead of floating around creating fear but offering no reason. _The Doctor was safe_ , she says to Jamie. _You can let go of it now_.

It is unsettling, but the more she heals, the more things break. The Time Lord that did this was methodical, creating a domino effect that would build until Jamie’s entire psyche came tumbling down. But even without alien interference there is so much trauma here that Donna knows she isn’t really fixing anything. That there is a high chance that she is just giving him back his memories only for him to collapse under the strain of them.

But as she goes through, piece by piece, she begins to see a pattern on the floor. It is the picture of a song, slowly building, made of both Scottish tradition and the music of Gallifrey. A ward against night terrors.

 _I helped him make it_ , Donna’s Doctor says. _When his dreams were passed what he could cope with. It helps with trauma_.

And then, after a beat. _I have one of my own, now_.

Donna carefully arranges things so they are all back in their place, as thorny as that place may be, and then reaches out to touch the cracked walls. Jamie still jerks, but his mind does not try to pull away. She slowly draws out the Time Lord’s fractures, and helps the walls seal shut where they cannot on their own. It’s a long process, a complicated process, and just like his body there are scars that will not heal regardless of her actions. 

But she gives him back Zoe, and Victoria (how he misses her). Ben and Polly. Good memories, bad memories, horrible memories. And then, right at the centre of the cracks, she finds a little seed of power, slowly eating away at him. She grabs it and squashes it under her heel like a bug. She gives him back the Doctor.

When Donna comes back to herself Jamie is holding onto Zoe tight enough that she’s sure the girl is going to have bruises. She is laughing and holding back just as tightly. It’s a sweet reunion and there’s a part of her that feels like she’s intruding. But there’s a warmth in her chest so hot that she thinks she’s going to burst with happiness and she is glad that at least some part of the Doctor gets to feel that.

\---

“You know, you’ve never told us who you are.” Zoe is playing a game on her phone, while Donna fiddles with the TARDIS and Jamie hands her the tools. “I mean, not really.” 

“I told you, I’m Donna.”

“A friend of the Doctor’s,” they all say in unison. 

“But what does that mean?” Zoe asks.

“I traveled with him, the same as you.”

“ _We_ don’t have his memories or know how to fly the TARDIS,” Jamie says.

Donna sighs. “I had an accident.”

“An accident?” Zoe asks.

“I absorbed some of his regeneration energy.”

“Regeneration? What’s that?”

“That’s the stuff that makes him,” Jamie waves his hands about. “Right?”

“It’s a biological process that allows his species to avoid from fatal wounds or illnesses by completely changing the biological structure,” Donna explains. Jamie just points to show that was what he meant.

“So this energy is meant to stop him from dying. How did it get into you?”

“I have no idea,” Donna says. “Regeneration energy has never gone inside a human before. I just touched his severed hand-”

“His _what?!_ ” Jamie yells.

“Yeah he got his hand cut off and grew a new one. I hate that that makes sense now. Anyway, I touched the hand, created a new him who was him except with a human body, while I turned into a Time Lord.”

“So he gave you a TARDIS?” Zoe asks.

“More or less, yeah,” Donna says, abruptly focusing all of her attention on a screw.

“But why us?” Jamie asks, this time. “The Doctor has many companions.”

“Was it because of what the Time Lords did?” Zoe has put her game away now.

“I guess,” Donna says. “Mostly it was because there was no reason that happened to you. Usually there’s a reason. People die to save the universe? Heartbreaking, but there is still a reason. People get abandoned for a reason. People leave for a reason. There was no reason for the two of you. Just Time Lords being utter pricks who think they can go screwing with people’s memories for no reason!”

The screw snaps, and hits her on the forehead on its way down. Donna lays underneath the console panting heavily. Jamie is watching her silently, and she imagines that Zoe is too. She didn’t want to tell them, but they deserve to know. She understands how infuriating it is to be lied too.

“I was dying,” she says quietly. “A human brain cannot sustain a Time Lord consciousness. So to save my life, he… he removed the consciousness. And in doing that he took away himself, the TARDIS, everywhere we had been, everyone we had met… he took me away.” Donna sighs, and begins to screw in a new screw. “And then he found a way for me to live with a Time Lord brain and gave it all back. Gave me a TARDIS as well. And then buggered off because he can be a right prick sometimes.”

Jamie and Zoe both laughed at that.

“He never went back for you because the Time Lords prevented it,” Donna explains. “And he was sure that if he went back for you he would just get you killed. He’s got a guilt complex the size of Daxydrien. But I thought you at least deserved the choice.”

Jamie leans down and puts his hand on Donna’s arm.

“Thank you,” he says, and Zoe echoes the sentiment. The TARDIS makes a sound that sounds awfully similar.

\---

Donna finds it a lot easier than the Doctor to avoid trouble, mostly because she actually enjoys not always being in trouble. But that doesn’t mean she avoids it entirely- she, Jamie, and Zoe still end up in the middle of a Judoon rebellion, stopping a sky pirate from killing the missing Princess of Agerbia (who, it turns out, was missing because she became Queen of the sky pirates) and get kidnapped by Alexander the Great.

She still misses the Doctor, but so do Jamie and Zoe, and they still manage to create their own family of the three of them. She wishes she could run into the Doctor one last time, but after a score of near misses (and not so near misses, when they arrived on a planet and found the Doctor looming over them in the form of a giant statue being worshiped as a God) she decided that it was not what fate desired.

And she was alright with that, truly. Knowing the Doctor was out there was enough. Having her memories was enough. Getting to put her Granddad’s photo in the TARDIS so that he was always traveling with her was more than enough. And with Jamie and Zoe as her own companions, she wasn’t lonely anymore.

Because she will always be searching for the Doctor’s little blue box, but will always be home in her red one with neon green ribbon.

**Author's Note:**

> I just really wanted an au where these three get to be happy, okay? I would love to say I'm going to write a whole bunch about their misadventures but I know better than to promise that. Also I can't decide if they would run into the Doctor at some point or just constantly send the Doctor messages when the Doctor turns up at random points in time. Either would be sooooo much fun.
> 
> Comments are welcome!


End file.
